


Black Heart and Big Muscles

by Ren_Maisley



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Assassination, Assassination Plot(s), Birthday Presents, Devotion, Feelings Realization, Killing Miklan, Loyalty, M/M, Meet-Cute, Minor Edelgard von Hresvelg/My Unit | Byleth, Moving Dead Bodies, Self-Sacrifice, Threats, casual touches, crack ship, no beta we die like Glenn, routing bandits
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-06
Updated: 2020-11-06
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:20:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27414883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ren_Maisley/pseuds/Ren_Maisley
Summary: Hubert had written Raphael off as a foolish halfwit. Ferociously strong and loyal to Leicester, but virtually no threat at all to Lady Edelgard. And if he were somehow wrong, Hubert could kill him easily with a dose of poison in his drink and a few quiet spells to his broad chest.No, Raphael is not a threat to Hubert or his liege physically. But Hubert never could’ve imagined Raphael being a threat to his own blackened heart.
Relationships: Raphael Kirsten/Hubert von Vestra
Comments: 18
Kudos: 17





	Black Heart and Big Muscles

**Author's Note:**

  * For [The Entire Sylvgrid Discord](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=The+Entire+Sylvgrid+Discord).



> Here it is: perhaps the very first Raphbert fic. Thank you to paperpenpal for thinking up the most genius pairing in fire emblem history with your work [ in all these worlds we were meant to be in ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25969027/chapters/63129832) and thank you to The Entire Sylvgrid Discord server for hyping this idea up enough for me to get motivated to write this! 
> 
> Don't take this fic too seriously.... But I hope you enjoy!

Hubert had a list in his mind filled with potential threats to Lady Edelgard and her cause-- and Raphael Kirsten was not on that list.

The loyal retainer had researched his classmates prior to the start of term at the Officers Academy. He knew to be wary of the Gautier heir-- his father, the Margrave, was too entrenched in crest culture to bend to his liege’s ideals. And Duke Goneril’s sister wasn’t to be antagonized-- one letter home and the greatest general of Leicester could be breathing down their necks. 

Hubert hadn’t bothered with investigating the commoners included on the enrollment list he procured through his father’s connections. It wasn’t because he discounted the power and influence of commoners (Hubert himself was crestless after all), there was just little means to find the information vital to Hubert’s assessment of “threat” or “nonissue”.

That’s why, when the school year began, along with confirming his intuitions about various Faerghan and Leicester nobles, Hubert kept an eye out for notable commoners within each house. While Dorothea may have some potential given her quick friendship with Edelgard, the vassal smirked when he saw Kirsten slapping his puny bespectacled friend on the shoulder when he took a glimpse inside the filled Golden Deer classroom.

He looked quite stupid-- fairly loyal to his crafty house leader (a formidable threat that shouldn’t be left unchecked) but wholly unremarkable bar his obvious physical strength. A few drops of Hubert’s choice poison in his drink while the oaf isn’t looking and a few quiet spells to the back after he tries to retreat to his quarters, clutching at his stomach from a sudden onset stomach ache should make quick work of the man, provided he causes problems for Edelgard. The smartest thing to do would be to stay out of Hubert’s way-- but Kirsten wasn’t smart, and seemed to go out of his way to get in Hubert’s way.

Hubert had been observing Edelgard in the training grounds one morning; she had been practicing with her axe, as she preferred. Though the term had just begun, Edelgard-- and really their whole class-- were improving rapidly due to the enigma that was their new professor (a “threat” if there ever was one). His liege seemed rather taken with Byleth, but Hubert had been planning on having a little “talk” with the strange woman. As he left the grounds, thinking of what to say to intimidate his professor, he felt a large finger tap his shoulder. He spun around to find Kirsten looming over him (which was impressive, as Hubert was a very tall man).

“Hey! You dropped this!” Kirsten, sweating and huffing from his gauntlet practice, was holding out a writing quill that Hubert had apparently dropped when he moved to leave. “You’re Hubert Vestra, right?”

Hubert gingerly took the quill from him. “Yes, I am Hubert VON Vestra, and unless I am mistaken, you are Raphael Kirsten of Leicester?”

“You bet! I mean, yes sir!” Kirsten stood up a little straighter. “I’m still not used to talking to nobles, especially ones from Adrestia!” He scratched the back of his head. “I’d rather just talk to them normally!”

While Kirsten smiled jovially, Hubert swelled with annoyance. He was proud of his station, proud to serve Lady Edelgard. Was this halfwit invalidating his efforts, implying he wasn’t worthy of the respect a true noble deserves? Just as Hubert opened his mouth to voice his fury, Kirsten spoke first, barreling on with his ramblings.

“You kinda remind me of a knight instead of a noble, though.” 

This made Hubert pause. “Why?” he asked.

“Because it seems like you’d do anything for Miss Edelgard!” Kirsten said confidently.

Hubert was sure he had never been seen as knightly before. Creepy and underhanded, yes. But chivalrous? Gentlemanly? Never.

Hubert decided to end this conversation as he normally did: with a threat. He turned up the menace and stood taller, getting closer to Kirsten.

“You are a bit mistaken: while my loyalty is comparable to a knight, some of the things I do for Lady Edelgard can be considered the very _opposite_ of knightly,” he muttered. “It’d benefit you to remember that well, Kirsten.”

Kirsten stood there for a second, taking in his words; his face was unreadable. Hubert’s hand twitched, ready to draw a sigil-- and was then surprised when Kirsten laughed out loud.

“Kirsten, what?” he laughed again. “Call me Raphael, Hubert. See you later!” He jogged back to the training grounds, waving his bear paw of a hand behind him as he ran.

Hubert groaned as he examined the writing quill in his hand. This guy was a full-blown idiot. He’d have to steer clear of him from now on, lest his strangeness distract him from his service to Lady Edelgard. Little did Hubert know that Kirsten was going to end up distracting him in _different_ ways.

***

While most people treated his liege with the respect and kindness she deserved, there were still a select few who had earned themselves a visit from Hubert, and not a pleasant one.

When Hubert and Edelgard were finished shopping in town one Garland Moon evening and had started heading back to Garreg Mach, a man with a tankard outside a dingy bar had interrupted Edelgard’s endless chatter about their professor with a catcall in her direction.

“Hey ho sweetie, ditch the skinny boy and join me for a drink this night! I’ll be sure ta give ya better time than him!” He toasted the mortified girl and drew a large swig of his tankard.

Hubert had ushered his liege away, staring daggers at the older heckler, and when he laid in bed that night he could not contain his rage at the man any longer. He donned his traveling cloak and pulled up the hood to conceal his hair as he stormed back to the bar the man should have still been drinking at. 

The man was indeed in the same spot, more inebriated than ever, leaning against the front of the establishment to keep himself on his feet. His numb mind worked wonders for Hubert, as he successfully handed the man a drink spiked with poison after chatting for a few minutes. When the man downed the drink and promptly threw up all down his front, Hubert threw his arm around the man and half-dragged him around the corner of the bar and through the alley, acting shocked for the sake of the few uninterested passersby.

When Hubert almost had the bastard behind the bar, itching to slit his throat and rid the world of one more disgusting person, the man slipped from Hubert’s shoulder and pulled his hood down in the last dregs of his consciousness as he fell upon the muddy ground. Hubert had just opened his mouth to utter a curse when he heard someone mutter “Hubert?” behind him.

He spun around to find Raphael Kirsten of all people standing in the alley, a look of concern on his face.

“Ah... good evening,” Hubert said, thinking fast. The flash of his magic would alert people a lot more than a drunkard being supported by a “friend”. Did he have to kill Kirsten to get out of this? Just as he readied a spell for the second time upon meeting his large classmate, Kirsten groaned sympathetically.

“Did your buddy there drink too much? Are you going to wash him off in that stream over there?” He pointed past a distant fence towards a river just crossing the treeline.

 _Congratulations Kirsten, you may get to live another day._ Hubert thought. “Yes, unfortunately.” He tried to lift the man, in all his dead weight. “Now if you’ll excuse me….”

“Let me help you carry him; you look like you’re struggling,” Kirsten said, walking towards him. Hubert froze. If this man wasn’t dead yet, he certainly would be soon. Would Kirsten notice?

“Why, thank you, Kirsten,” Hubert said, dropping the man in Kirsten’s arms and stifling a wicked grin. This was perfect: Hubert would walk slightly behind them, and if Kirsten realized the man was dead, Hubert would kill him with his dark magic. The trees would conceal the light once they reached them, and Hubert would finally be rid of this nuisance. He almost felt bad; it was such a stupid way to die.

“Ah geez, Hubert! It’s _Raphael!_ ” Kirsten said. He gathered the dying man in his arms, speaking soft, encouraging words, carrying him with such gentleness that made Hubert narrow his eyebrows.

“Very well, Raphael.” Hubert said after a moment. A question came to him as they walked toward the stream. “What are you doing out in town so late?” 

“Oh, I was just finishing up a moving job for a shop owner.” Raphael said proudly. “She saw my muscles as I walked by and hired me on the spot!” He readjusted his hold on the man. “Gotta get money back home to my little sis through jobs like these, at least until I become a knight!”

Hubert blinked, trying to make out Raphael’s expression in the darkness. He looked positively casual. He decided to give him a little test.

“Are you only interested in working as a knight for Claude?”

Raphael hummed as he thought. “I like Claude a lot, and it’d be awesome if I was a knight for him. But I wouldn’t say I’m _only_ interested in working for him.”

That was a very interesting answer. “I see,” Hubert said just as they reached the bank of the river. The trees behind them were dense; now was the most opportune time to kill him. For the third time, Hubert began to trace a sigil in the air with intent to harm Raphael. But then, he faltered. 

_There was no need to dispose of potential allies,_ Hubert thought as Raphael laid the now most-definitely dead heckler down next to the water. He took a deep breath and crouched down next to Raphael.

“Would you fetch a dry towel from the tavern?” Hubert asked. “I will wash him off in your leave.”

“Oh, good idea! Be right back,” Raphael said. He stood up and without another word jogged back up to where they came from.

Hubert waited until Raphael was out of sight before roughly and forcefully shoving the body into the water and pushing it away with the cool river current. The body of a drunkard found a few miles from the village, written off as an accidental drowning, couldn’t be traced back to him. He stayed long enough to make sure the body didn’t just wash up a little further downstream, and then went up to meet Raphael in front of the bar.

When Raphael burst back out of the tavern doors with a raggedy towel slung over his shoulder, Hubert was there to intercept him.

“My friend woke up from the shock of cold water. He was feeling better, so he walked the short distance to his home.” Hubert was a seasoned liar, and it was obvious that Raphael was a seasoned sucker, because he believed his lie immediately.

“Oh! That’s good. But your hands must be cold from that washing, so you take the towel instead.” His large classmate held out the towel to him.

Hubert hesitated for a second, then moved to take the rag. His fingers brushed against Raphael’s-- they were just too big to avoid. There was a sensation of warmth where his still-wet hand met Raphael’s: it was foreign, but not unwelcome.

“Thank you. You can head back now-- I’ll return the towel in your stead.” Hubert was suddenly anxious to get away from Raphael. He just couldn’t look him in the eyes, for some reason.

“Thanks Hubert! See you around!” With a wave and a smile, Raphael headed down the path leading back to Garreg Mach.

Hubert shook his head as he watched him leave: his thoughts needn’t linger on Raphael’s future loyalties at the moment. Now that the bastard who dared to try and prey on Lady Edelgard was dead, he could focus on what really mattered….

***

A birthday gift for Lady Edelgard-- it must be _perfect_ for the girl he loved deeply. Hubert found himself back in town a couple days later, trying and failing to pick out a suitable birthday gift for her. He was looking in a crafts shop, trying not to be frantic about his indecision. As Hubert scanned the ink bottles, looking for something of substance, he spied a hulking shape through a gap in the shelves. He peeked around one side and decided to initiate conversation.

“Raphael.”

His classmate startled at the sound of his name. He turned to face Hubert, a wide grin adorning his face. “Hey Hubert, what are you up to?”

Hubert stood up taller and folded his hands together behind his back. “Lady Edelgard’s birthday draws closer, and I’ve yet to choose a worthy gift for her. I’d like it to be something useful, but a disposable, one-use item may not convey enough meaning….” He trailed off, positively stumped on what to do. When he snapped out of his brief stupor, he found something very long and thin thrust out in front of his face. Hubert stepped back in surprise and realized that Raphael was holding out a paintbrush toward him.

“I’m getting this paintbrush for my little sister, I like to send presents home to her sometimes,” Raphael said, trying and failing to twirl it around his thick fingers. It fell and clattered on to the dusty floor.

Hubert instinctively bent down to retrieve the paintbrush, but Raphael beat him to it. Suddenly, Hubert felt himself grasping Raphael’s warm hand and looking up to the hand’s owner kneeling down right next to him. Raphael’s bright yellow eyes were trained on Hubert’s, shining softly.

“Ignatz always told me that I get a certain look on my face when I’m worrying about my little sister-- that look was just on you Hubert!” He grinned as Hubert drew his hand back and shuffled away, righting himself with a light blush on his face.

“I fail to see how that’s significant,” Hubert said quietly, his eyes downcast. “Edelgard and I are not related by blood.”

“Sure, but that doesn’t mean you can’t _think_ of her as a little sister,” Raphael pointed out. He examined the paintbrush back safely in his hand. “Y’know, little sisters always want their older brothers thinking of them. Even if they're annoyed with you or want to be left alone, they want you to be thinking of them, looking out for them.” Raphael gestured again to his paintbrush, “I’m going to carve my initials in this before I send it, so whenever my little sis paints with it, she’ll know that wherever I am in the world, I’m thinking of her.”

Hubert was staring at Raphael, his mouth slightly open. Edelgard was always proclaiming that the path she was walking had to be made alone, even though Hubert would gladly follow her, even if it was for the rest of his life. Does she secretly want to be on someone’s mind, always? How could Hubert let her know that _he_ was always thinking of her?

“Seems like you’ve figured something out,” Raphael said, interrupting Hubert’s thoughts. “I’ve gotta pay for this, then it’s back to training!” As the larger boy passed Hubert, he nudged him with his massive elbow. “Just don’t smile when you give it to Miss Edelgard. You might scare her away!” With a hearty chuckle, Raphael went up to the storekeeper to purchase the gift for his sister.

Hubert rubbed the spot where Raphael touched him. Usually the retainer was annoyed when someone made note of his… undesirable features and mannerisms, but Raphael’s joke at his expense didn’t sting in the slightest. Hubert knew his classmate meant nothing by it-- he was an open book when it came to his intentions and….

 _Hmmmm…. A book could make a nice gift,_ Hubert thought, struck with a sudden idea. _Perhaps not just any book, however…._

That evening, Hubert set the new journal he bought for Edelgard on his desk, the inscription on the front page having just been finished. It read--

_Lady Edelgard,_

_Happy birthday. My service to you these last several years has been everything I’ve ever wanted, and now we find ourselves in our most ambitious and chaotic year yet. I will reassure you once again that my loyalty is unshakable, and everything I do is for you and your cause. As the future Emperor, you may feel like this path you walk must be undergone alone: I hope this gift-- a journal-- will help you through your path. Whenever you feel like the weight on your shoulders is too much to bear, or a bout of loneliness gets the better of you, write down your worries in this journal. It will remind you that no matter the challenge, no matter the twists or turns, I am forever willing to aid you. I am thinking of you, always, and I remain, my dear Lady Edelgard,_

_Very truly yours,_

_Hubert von Vestra_

***

It seemed that Hubert wasn’t the only one taking an interest in Raphael Kirsten-- when the Black Eagles were tasked with taking down a Faerghan bandit that made off with a Hero’s Relic, Professor Eisner had enlisted Raphael’s assistance with the mission. Hubert didn’t know why she hadn’t recruited a crest-worshipping noble from Faerghus, considering the Relic weapon belonged to Gautier and the bandit group was hiding out in Kingdom territory, but he didn’t complain, as Raphael was capable in his skill.

The trip to Conand Tower was dreary and uneventful, but Raphael’s attitude was like a torch in the dark; his cheerful demeanor entertained Petra and Dorothea, and his competitiveness kept Caspar fired up (and made him complain less, Hubert was pleased to find). Even Bernadetta seemed less scared of him as she usually would be when confronted with a new person. The vassel, however, found himself skirting around Raphael for some reason. It wasn’t like Hubert cared too much, or Raphael noticed anything different, although Hubert could’ve sworn he almost caught Raphael staring at him once or twice. That was fine, he was used to people avoiding his eyes once they learned how he conducted himself-- sometimes even before that, upon seeing him for the first time. It seemed like Hubert’s reputation had finally caught up with him.

Once they arrived at the tower and started routing the bandits, it was clear that Raphael fought well with the Black Eagles: he stood at the front lines, acting as a shield for Bernadetta and Dorothea, engaging the enemy while they attacked from a distance. 

The students made their way up the tower and very quickly found themselves confronting the lead bandit in a large, empty room. Hubert shot spell after spell at the leader, using his magic to his advantage against his adversary’s bulky armor. The professor kept the leader away from Hubert going Relic against Relic, and winning. 

But then all hell broke loose when the leader transformed into a massive demonic beast: Bernadetta was shrieking, Linhardt was shaking, and Byleth was actually _shouting_ her orders as they tried to flank the monster. Hubert had been keeping a close eye on Edelgard throughout the nightmare of a battle, and got a little too daring while trying to draw the beast away from her with his magic attacks. Hubert realized too late that he didn’t have a proper way to repel the beast’s attention as it raised its claws to strike, but then he found himself being shoved out of harm’s way.

When the dust settled, Hubert saw Raphael stirring on the ground, bleeding heavily from his head. He had pushed Hubert out of the way and taken the hit for him-- he had saved Hubert’s life.

“Linhardt!” Hubert shouted, his voice cracking from the sudden raise in volume, “I need you!” He couldn’t remember the last time he shouted like that-- his throat would be sore for a few hours, provided he was still alive to feel the pain.

He figured that, yes, he would be, as Edelgard and Byleth finished off the beast with a simultaneous strike, and Linhardt’s healing was working without error. Once Linhardt had staggered away to tend to another ally and Raphael was well enough to sit up and wipe the dried blood and grime from his face, Hubert accosted him.

“You thoughtless oaf, what were you thinking? That stunt could’ve cost you your life, have you no sense of cause or consequence?” Hubert was shaking, from rage or fear or both, he didn’t know.

“Sorry, sorry,” Raphael said, smiling softly and looking straight at Hubert. “But of course I was gonna save ya, buddy! That’s the only cons’quence I was worried about!”

Hubert gritted his teeth and grasped Raphael’s shoulder roughly. His fingers dug into Raphael’s tunic as he tried to speak. “Don’t let it happen again, Raphael.” With one last look at his friend’s dirty, bloody, yet smiling face, Hubert stomped away, sparing a glance at Edelgard to make sure she was uninjured before leaving the large room entirely.

Hubert’s thoughts were a mess as he wandered back down to the tower entrance. There were no casualties and only a few injuries, but his insides felt cramped and it was difficult to draw breath.

 _Is it because Raphael had almost died protecting me?_ Hubert thought, leaning against a wall as his mind raced. He had assumed that Raphael had finally gotten wind about how despicable Hubert was and was avoiding him. Although, Hubert was avoiding him right back….

 _Why did I intentionally touch him? Why am I feeling this way?_ Hubert slid down the wall slowly as he thought back to the aftermath of the last battle. Despite Raphael’s injury, despite the horror they all had just witnessed... the look on his face when he said he was going to save him, it was… so warm.

 _Who are you Raphael Kirsten,_ Hubert thought frantically, _and why do I want to get to know you better?_


End file.
